Miranda oneshots
by xLaramiex
Summary: Ch1: It was just a fling! Ch2: Only You (unific) Ch3: Early Days (unific) Ch4: One Year. Ch5: Another Language.
1. It was just a fling!

_I really need to write but I have no inspiration apart from a little piece of headcanon from the sitcom Miranda. Hence this. All I can say is, I'm sorry it's so bad._

* * *

It is a week after Gary moved to Hong Kong. The scene opens with Gary and Tamara lying on their backs under a thin white sheet. Gary's bare arms are folded on top of the blanket.

"I'm sorry," Gary says, staring at the ceiling. "I don't know what got into me."

"Oh, don't worry about it." Tamara nudges him playfully. "We're just messing about, we both know that. So who is this Miranda?"

"Miranda is…a wonderful woman from back home who I…"

Tamara grins at him. "You're in love with her, aren't you?"

Gary smiles shyly, his cheeks colouring. "Maybe… Just a…" He sighs. "Yeah, yeah I am."

"Aww, Gary."

"Shut up!"

"What's she like?"

"Tamara!"

"Oh, come on, you've just said her name in bed, you can at least tell me about her."

Gary blushes again, and his eyes sparkle. "She's beautiful. She makes me laugh, she knows how to enjoy herself. She's always trying to fit in but she doesn't realise she stands out in the best way. She's wonderful."

* * *

_That's your lot._


	2. Only You

THIS IS WHAT I GET FOR READING THE TAGS. This is based on a picture from tumblr, on which littleleslieknopemonster asked for a fic. This is my response. The pic can be found at littleleslieknopemonster tumblr / post / 42418976117

Disclaimer: I have no idea where they went to university in-show, so I'm going with UWE because that's where Miranda Hart went IRL.

* * *

**Only You**

After the first-semester exams, there was a lull in workload before the assignments for semester two started piling up. Miranda, Stevie and Gary had been discussing what they could do with their few precious days of freedom for weeks. Just before their final exam, Gary plonked his tray down on Miranda and Stevie's table in the cafeteria and said, "I've got it!"

"Well I hope it's not catching," Miranda replied and chuckled nervously. Stevie elbowed her in the ribs. "Ow!" Miranda said indignantly before turning back to Gary expectantly.

Gary continued regardless. "Let's go to Stonehenge!"

Miranda and Stevie stared at him, unimpressed.

"But that's just a load of rocks," Stevie said, her voice indicating that she thought he had taken leave of his senses.

"No it's not, it's an important historical monument built 4000 years ago without machines from rock nearly 200 miles away," Gary recited before smugly taking a bite of his rather flat hamburger.

"You got that out of a book, didn't you," Miranda said - it was not a question.

"No!… Okay, yes, but it's still interesting."

"I can't go," Stevie said. "It's my cousin's birthday and my mum's making me go to the party."

"Oh no, how awful!" Miranda sympathised.

Gary turned to Miranda. "Miranda?" he prompted hopefully.

"What, just us?" Miranda asked, getting nervous already.

Gary started to worry that she would pull out. "Well, yeah. Come on, it'll be fun." He waited for her response, eyes pleading.

"It's like we're eloping…" she said dreamily, until Stevie elbowed her in the ribs in exactly the same spot as before. "Ow! I mean, yes, alright then."

Gary grinned. "Brilliant."

Over the next few days, they sorted out the details, booked two train tickets, did an exam and waved goodbye to Stevie, and suddenly it was the morning of their day-trip. Miranda somehow managed to drag herself out of bed at some ungodly hour and met Gary. It was only just over a mile to the train station, so they walked, laughing and feeling as though they owned the world in the watery early-morning sunlight.

A few other people catching the early train winced at the youthful pair's loud laughter. They boarded the 5-minutes-late train and sat next to each other at a table. Miranda started feeling closed-in and panicked that she would not have anything to talk about. Somehow, though, they managed.

Soon the conductor made her way down the train. Miranda started wriggling around in her seat, stuffing her hands into her pockets to search for her train ticket and pulling apart the zip on her backpack to rummage through it.

"Gary… Gary, I can't find my train ticket. Gary, what am I going to do? They'll arrest me and throw me off the train and I'll go rolling down the hill and get scratched by all the brambles -"

"Miranda," Gary interrupted. "I've got your ticket, in my pocket. Remember, I'm looking after it so you didn't have to worry about losing it."

Miranda gave a relieved sigh. "Thanks, Gary."

"That's okay. I like looking after you."

Miranda smiled at him.

Gary pulled the opening of her bag towards him. "Is that a mug?"

"Yes," she replied. "Well when you get a drink from a cafe, they give you those awful cardboard cups that burn your fingers, and anyway it's nice to have your own mug."

Gary shook his head fondly. "Only you, Miranda."

* * *

They arrived in Salisbury and got lost twice while looking for the tourist bus that would take them to Stonehenge, but eventually they found the stop and did not have too long to wait for the next bus. Miranda tripped up the steps but they managed to reach the car park across the road from Stonehenge without further incident.

Gary jumped off the bus first and held out a hand to help Miranda down the steps. She adjusted the straps on her backpack, feeling like a proper tourist, very free and grown-up. They queued up, getting jostled on all sides by foreigners in white pac-a-macs and old people with wooden sticks. There was a buzz over everyone, a frisson of excitement.

They finally reached the gate and paid for their tickets. Gary went through the revolving gate first; Miranda followed, but tripped in the revolving gate so that it whacked her on the back, pulled her feet out from under her and catapulted her into the ground. Miranda groaned; Gary tried not to giggle as she dragged herself to her feet.

"You okay?"

"Say nothing, please," she said, sweeping past him, mortified that Gary had seen her fall flat on her face yet again.

They walked through the tunnel under the road together, and as they reached the top of the ramp Stonehenge rose into view.

"Wow, that is quite good, actually," Miranda admitted.

"See," Gary replied, nudging her gently. They were borne along by the crowd to the grassy path around the imposing stones. "It's aligned with the sun, you know, so every summer solstice the sun rises right between the stones."

"Which ones?"

Gary looked at them. "Um…I don't know."

"Well there's a lot to choose from," Miranda pointed out, and they giggled.

As they continued around the circle, Miranda had to dodge around other people and kept getting left behind Gary, so she hooked her fingers onto his hood to make sure they could not get separated. He did not say anything about it until Miranda got distracted by the view and stopped dead. He turned around and prised her fingers off before saying gently, "You nearly strangled me."

"Sorry," she said nervously, her ability to speak severely compromised by the fact that he had not let go of her hand as he turned to gaze at the ancient monument. He glanced at her and saw that she was staring at their hands.

"Don't want you getting lost," he explained, starting to sound nervous himself.

* * *

By the time they got on their return train, both were exhausted. Miranda had bought a cup of tea from the station for the journey, pouring it into her mug. She clutched it to warm her fingers up; the rain had held off all day but a chill had come into the air towards the latter part of the afternoon.

They slumped into their seats and Miranda sipped her tea. Gary showed their tickets to the conductor then leaned back in his seat, rubbing his eyes.

"Ohh, I'm so tired," he groaned. He turned his head to catch her eye. "Thanks for coming. I had a great time."

"Me too."

Gary smiled, his head still resting against the back of the seat. He was very quiet for a few minutes, and then Miranda looked up and realised that he had fallen asleep. She kept sipping her tea.

It was not long before Gary started slumping sideways, thrown by the movement of the train. He got closer and closer to her, until his head was resting on her shoulder.

Miranda looked into her tea mug and smiled to herself, a lovely warm feeling enveloping her.

"Oh Gary," she murmured. "Only you."


	3. Early Days

It's not as good as Only You, but here goes. This is inspired by garyprestons suggesting Stevie introducing Miranda & Gary, and becauseofthedarren suggesting a Miranda cooking mishap on which Gary walks in.

Fanon seems to be that they did a history degree, so that's what I'm going with. I rather liked garyprestons' idea that Miranda thought Gary was Stevie's boyfriend to start with but for this fic I wanted to do it this way. Also yes, the other students are based on people I know from my uni.

**Early Days**

When the welcome speeches were over, Miranda's future lecturers, course leaders and other university staff that she had already forgotten left the nervous students in the marquee with two bouncy young people who planned to help them relax and make friends. All that really happened was the extroverts got over-excited and the introverts got anxious. Nonetheless, the two activity leaders seemed convinced that they were breaking the ice as they instructed the students to shout out their names and a random fact about themselves, stop a large number of balloons from hitting the ground and ask the other students where they came from.

They all stood round in a circle to introduce themselves. "My name's Jacky, and I never wear matching socks."

"Daniel! My girlfriend is on my course and she's standing right there." He pointed to the girl next to him, who introduced herself next.

"Amy! I love purple."

"I'm Gary and I have three goldfish called Holly, Molly and Dolly."

The introductions continued around the circle until it was Miranda's turn. By now she was panicking so much about forgetting her own name that she had not managed to think of a fact.

"Oh, um, it's me, I'm Miranda, and um... I like making sock puppets."

As attention passed to the boy on her right, Miranda cringed. What a dweeby answer! She did not want everyone to think of her as the childish sock-puppet girl. University was supposed to be the new, grown-up Miranda!

When she looked up, the dark-haired boy who had introduced himself as Gary was looking at her with a slight smile tugging at his lips. For a second she thought he was laughing at her, but his eyes were too kind for that.

Oh... he was very good-looking. Miranda felt butterflies fluttering in her belly, but before she could melt into a puddle of embarrassment the boy turned his gaze to whoever was now speaking. Miranda took a deep breath as she concentrated on the rest of the introductions - or tried to. It was quite boring, really.

Later they milled around the marquee to ask other students where they came from. Miranda found herself in front of a very short girl with blonde hair.

"Typical, of all the people I could be talking to, I choose the tallest girl here," the little blonde said.

"It's not my fault you're short," Miranda replied.

"No, I blame my parents for that one. My mum always says she should have stuck me in a bucket of compost overnight."

"My mum usually says I should chop my legs off below the knee so I'm not such a towering giraffe," Miranda replied with a chuckle.

"And everybody move on!" shouted one of the activity leaders.

"We're supposed to be asking names and things, aren't we?" the stranger said as they both ignored the instruction. "I'm Stevie."

"Hello. I'm Miranda." Why did she have to curtsey while she said that?

Stevie gave an elaborate bow in response and Miranda immediately decided that she had to keep an eye on this girl.

"What course are you on?" Miranda asked.

"History."

"Me too!"

"Brilliant!" Stevie replied. "We should sit next to each other in lectures."

* * *

Miranda could not find Stevie in their first lecture, and in the second she kept shushing her and poking her in the ribs, so Miranda avoided her in the third lecture. Honestly, she was taking it all far too seriously with her subject-separated notepad, colour-coded post-its and collection of highlighters.

Miranda came across her in the canteen at lunchtime, though, and realised that when Stevie let go a little she could be very funny. They ate pre-packaged slices of chocolate cake and talked about the lecturer with the annoying voice and the student with the funny beard.

Over the coming weeks, Miranda learned that Stevie simply would not talk to her during lectures, and Stevie learned that Miranda simply could not talk to guys or people over the age of 30. They bought box-sets of comedy shows and watched one episode after another in Stevie's room while trying to catch Maltesers in their mouths.

A couple of times, Miranda saw the cute guy from the first day around the campus and in her lectures. During a particularly long and boring lecture about Richard III she wondered idly what he was like, and tried to point him out to Stevie, but otherwise did not give him too much thought.

One weekend, a couple of weeks before Christmas, Stevie went home to see her parents. Both she and Miranda lived on campus during term time. Stevie left Miranda with the key to her room because her room was warmer than Miranda's, so she went over there to hunch over Stevie's desk as she tried to scribble out a beginning to one of her essays. The plan was to get it mostly finished before the Christmas holidays so that she would have time to go to Stevie's before going home, but the chances of that happening were looking slim.

When she could no longer ignore her rumbling stomach, Miranda crossed the corridor into the shared kitchen in search of food. Stevie had left her a tin of soup and a frozen lasagne.

She never figured out where the strong smell of burning was coming from, but she propped open the kitchen door to let it dissipate. Just as she removed the lasagne from the oven, who should walk into the corridor but Gary. He poked his head in the kitchen door.

"You okay? It smells of burning in here."

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Miranda replied, hoping to sound nonchalant despite the smoke stinging her eyes. Gary flashed her a smile and walked away.

Miranda grabbed a knife and fork and it was not until she reached Stevie's door with her lasagne in hand that she realised Gary was knocking on the door.

She stopped next to him, not sure what to do with herself. "Stevie's gone home for the weekend," she explained.

"Oh... she said I could come over and copy her notes from last Monday. I was ill."

"Well, she's not actually here, so..." Miranda was so self-concious she almost wished he would go away. Her heart was pounding. "I mean, you could copy my notes, if, if you want..."

Gary glanced down at her singed and blackened lasagne. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it and then said, "I can't cook but I'm very good at ordering pizza." His cheeks got a little red.

"Oh, are you?" Miranda replied, confused. She shifted her hold on her dinner to avoid burning her fingers. "That's, that's nice."

"Yeah, um..." Gary scratched the back of his neck. "I meant, do you fancy ordering a pizza while I get your notes?"

Miranda's heart started racing as she weighed up the stress of making conversation with a very good-looking guy against the excitement of talking to a very good-looking, seemingly lovely guy. "Okay," she agreed, and finally pushed open the door to let herself and Gary in. She was glad Stevie's room was tidier than her own.

They decided on their order (pepperoni, of course) and Gary nipped downstairs to the payphone to order it, then waited at the gate for it to be delivered while Miranda quietly freaked out upstairs. What if she made a fool of herself? What if she farted? By the time Gary returned with the pizza Miranda had got rid of the burnt lasagne and found some plates - was that too dorky? Gosh, she was so out of her depth.

"Oh, that's a good idea," Gary said, pointing at the plates. "Saves us getting pizza grease all over the place."

They dished out the pizza; Miranda sat in the chair by the desk and Gary sat on Stevie's bed to eat. Gary asked Miranda which A-levels she had studied, and they settled into a conversation about school, teachers and friends. A couple of times, she looked up to catch him just smiling gently at her, but whenever she caught his eye he would immediately colour up and examine his shoes intently. Was he laughing at her? He must be.

As they talked, Gary's shoes came off, the plates were dumped on the floor, and Miranda ended up on the other end of the bed, leaning against the wall. She could hardly believe how relaxed she was.

Eventually, Gary glanced at his watch. "We've been here for two hours! I'd better go, I'm supposed to be going out with my mates tonight."

"Oh, okay," Miranda said, trying to hide her disappointment. But - two hours! How had they managed to talk for so long? And it had only been marred by one fart (and countless embarrassed laughs).

He watched him pull his shoes on and pick his jacket up from the floor. "Sorry, I've left you with a mess," he said, sounding flustered as he started to pick up the plates.

"It's fine," Miranda said, taking the plates from him. It took him a moment to let go. "But you haven't actually got my notes. Do you want to borrow them?"

"Um, well I wouldn't want to take them off you, in case you need them. How about I come over on Monday?"

He really did have beautiful brown eyes.

Miranda agreed and walked with him to the door, where he hesitated, made as if to hug her, then left her with an awkward wave. Miranda waited for a few minutes then went downstairs to the payphone.

Stevie picked up her housephone after a couple of rings.

"You planned that, didn't you?" Miranda accused immediately.

"If you're talking about telling Gary he could copy my notes, of course I did, but how was I to know I wouldn't be there?"

"You liar, you've known you're going home this weekend for ages."

"Never mind that, how did it go? Did you fall over?"

"Only once, but I was carrying a plate of pizza at the time and fell face-first into the tomato sauce."

"Oh, Miranda."

"I know, I know. Oh and he's coming back on Monday because he never actually got the notes."

"What? Why not?"

"Well, we were talking and... Maybe he just didn't want my notes, maybe he thinks I'm stupid so he just wants yours."

"Aside from the fact that my notes are indeed vastly superior to yours, you're not stupid, and what do you mean he's coming back on Monday? A guy who has spent time with your burping and the way you eat like a rabid squirrel is willing to see you again?"

"He probably just wants to see you though, I mean he could have said tomorrow. Anyway, how's home?"

Stevie told her about the awful dress her mum was making her wear for the party the following day, and then Miranda ran out of coins. They said their goodbyes and Miranda returned to Stevie's room.

He may think her a farting, immature dork, but Gary Preston was rather lovely.


	4. One Year

This is supposed to be in the style of a real episode... I'll let you judge how well that went. Also, I started this quite a while ago, and it took me so long (I got stuck) that there are now a couple of fics with this plot point. As I'd already put so much effort into it I decided to finish and post anyway, so here it is.

* * *

Miranda sits on the sofa in her living room, tiny mug of tea in hand. She addresses the audience cheerfully. "Hello everyone! Now do be quiet, sit down, sit down. You, hovering in the doorway, find a chair. Unless you like hovering in doorways. Maybe you used to be homeless and spent all your time in doorways, in which case I am sorry and I hope things are better for you now. Right, previously in my life, the lovely Gary and I played hide-and-seek in IKEA."

-: _A woman opens the door of a wardrobe in an IKEA store, only to scream when she finds that Miranda is inside it. Miranda looks around furtively, before pulling the door closed again_. :-

"If you've never tried it, you must, and don't try and tell me you've never wanted to. I rather like hiding in wardrobes, it makes me think of Narnia." She chuckles. "Also, me, Stevie, Tilly, Gary, Clive and his boyfriend Daniel glitzed it up and re-enacted Strictly Come Dancing." She nods smugly at the audience.

-: _Miranda and Gary sit behind the counter in the shop, cheering on Stevie and Tilly trying to do a jive on the shop floor, now all made up as a dance hall. /_

_Miranda and Gary stand next to Tilly, who wears a Bruce Forsyth mask. They look up at Stevie, Clive and Daniel - a dark-haired, smiling man wearing a suit jacket - who all hold up '10' paddles._ :-

"Such fun. And Gary made me a triple chocolate fudge cake for our one year anniversary. Oh, he knows me so well. Isn't he lovely? Yes…" She stares off into space for a moment, before rousing herself with a jerk. "Anyway, on with the show!

* * *

Miranda and Gary sit either side of the bar. Miranda is tucking in to a bowl of ice cream while Gary writes something on a piece of paper.

"Gary, do you want to get married?"

Gary looks up at her in alarm, and Miranda's expression becomes horrified.

She starts babbling in panic. "Not to me! I didn't mean to me! I mean, it could be me. But it doesn't have to be me. I mean, I wouldn't - Just - at all?"

Gary considers her for a moment, tipping his head to one side before he answers. "Well, maybe one day. It'd have to be the right woman, of course."

"Of course."

"I couldn't stay in a relationship with someone who wasn't right for me. I'm sure you've had to break lots of men's hearts."

"Oh, hundreds." Miranda turns to the camera to say: "Well, Mike. But that's best left forgotten."

"It's hard, isn't it? But you have to do it, or you'll both be really unhappy in a relationship that doesn't suit you."

"Yes, of course, I know all about that." Miranda glances at the camera, shaking her head slightly and looking lost.

Gary glances down at his hands, looking nervous. "Um, Miranda, I need to talk to you about something. I, um -"

"Ooh, can I stop you there, Gary, I need to get back to the shop and help Stevie with, er, a thing."

"Oh, sure," Gary replies as Miranda stands up and walks straight into the waiter carrying a tray of biscuits. Both of them end up on the floor in a tangle, with biscuits flying everywhere.

Gary tries to stifle his laughter as she gets up and attempts to sweep out with dignity.

Clive walks over to Gary giving him a distinctly unimpressed look. "That was rubbish."

"I panicked!" Gary exclaims, throwing up his hands. "I could hardly tell her the truth, could I? It'd spoil the surprise."

* * *

Miranda gallops into the shop where Stevie is stacking boxes labelled "Whoopie cushions" behind the counter. "Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, Stevie -"

"I'm very busy! We've had the new stock delivered this morning and I don't know where we're going to put it all. Didn't I tell you that three boxes of poo-scented exploding candles was too much?"

"But Stevie, I think Gary's going to break up with me," Miranda whines.

Stevie gasps and stares at her in horror, mouth open. "Why? What have you done?"

Miranda thinks about that. "I think I just asked him to marry me."

"What?"

"By accident! I was just asking if he ever wanted to. Anyway, it's not what I've done. He said he needs to talk to me. What do I do?"

"Well I don't know."

"But what do I do?"

"I don't know!"

"What do I do?"

"You'll just have to put him off," Stevie says. "Yeah, if he tries to talk to you, just change the subject. Don't let him do it."

"But that's awful, what if he sneaks in when I'm not expecting it?"

The shop door opens. "Miranda?" It is Gary.

The two women turn to him in unison, looking like two deer in the headlights.

"Look, I know you're busy but I really need to ask you something."

"Oh but -"

"It'll only take a second, I promise." Gary has to raise his voice to be heard over Miranda's repeated "No no no!"

"I just wanted to ask if you want to come on holiday this weekend!"

Miranda stops shouting and looks relieved. "Ohh, is that all? Oh, but Gary you know I can't do holidays," she says, and gets more and more agitated as she continues. "Last time I went to the beach I went for a swim in the sea, nearly drowned, got out with my hair in my face, ran away from what I thought was a jellyfish, turned out to be a plastic bag, and it wasn't until I was halfway up the beach that I realised my bikini bottoms were still in the sea. It's a good job that seagull wasn't any smaller or it wouldn't have been able to fly."

Gary tries not to dwell on that strange mental image. "I was thinking more of Paris." He looks at Miranda hopefully.

Miranda turns to look at the camera, grinning excitedly and flapping her hands. "He wants to take me to Paris!" She turns back to Gary. "I'd love to."

Gary grins and pulls her into a hug, kissing her quickly on the lips as he lets go. "Brilliant. Meet me at the restaurant at 10 on Friday, alright?"

"Brillo," Miranda agrees.

Gary kisses her once more and leaves the shop, the bell ringing as the door closes.

"Paris! Stevie, he's taking me to Paris!" she squeals, jumping up and down gleefully.

Stevie laughs with excitement. "Now you won't get too silly, will you, Miranda? I know what you're like about going abroad."

"Of course not! I shall be elegance and decorum itself."

* * *

Miranda bounds into the restaurant cheerfully. She is wearing a blue-and-white striped jumper and a black beret, and there is a string of onions around her neck. She carries a large hold-all in one hand and a rucksack on her back.

Gary comes out of the kitchen, takes one look at her and bursts out laughing.

"What?" Miranda asks indignantly.

"You do know you're not actually French?"

"Of course," Miranda replies, trying to keep her cool. "But when in Rome..."

"What?"

"The mice will...play?" she finishes uncertainly, narrowing her eyes.

Gary chuckles. "You know, we've been together for over a year, and you never stop surprising me."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Definitely." They smile at each other. "Now come on, let's go." He picks up a bag from behind the counter and takes Miranda's hand, and together they leave the restaurant.

* * *

Knowing Miranda's dislike of aeroplanes (largely developed from the time when she had needed the toilet and had to climb over her sleeping neighbour, only to have him wake up when she was mid-mount), Gary takes her to Paris on the train. Despite Miranda's certainty that the train would crash and the tunnel would collapse around their ears, the journey is mostly uneventful. Miranda's only issue is with the youths, who she complains about to Gary when they reach their station and leave the train.

"Don't they know it's a quiet carriage? They're not supposed to play loud music, I tell you, if I'd had my scissors I would have snipped the wire to their speakers. It's so rude. Playing their youth music so everyone has to listen and the conductor didn't even -"

"Miranda," Gary interrupts.

"What?!" she replies, a little snappishly.

"I love you."

Miranda deflates. "Really?"

"Yes. More than anything. You know that."

"I love you too," she responds, smiling joyfully. "Now, shall we get going?"

Gary attempts a French accent, holding out his hand. "Can I show you to your 'otel, madame?"

"Certainly, sir." Miranda decides not to offend the French with her awful accent before even reaching the open air, but takes Gary's hand.

* * *

When they get to the hotel, Miranda goes for a shower before lunch. There are lights around the mirror, like a film star's dressing room. The splashing water muffles the sound, but she is sure she hears Gary's voice, high and pleading. She can't hear that what he is saying is, "I'll give it to you when I arrive, and then can you put the words on a flag in the pudding?"

Wrapping herself in a soft white towel (much better than the Hamilton Lodge, thank you so please to you), Miranda steps out of the en suite.

"Were you talking to someone?" she asks absently as she rummages through her suitcase for a pair of underwear. She leaves it on the table as she sits down to brush her hair. She catches sight of Gary in the mirror.

Unexpectedly, he is blushing. "Um, just mum, I thought I'd let her know we've arrived."

Miranda wonders why he looks so flustered, but is distracted when he says, "Come on slowcoach, we'll never get our lunch at this rate."

She sticks her tongue out at him and in response he jabs her in the ribs from behind, making her squeal.

"Now now, this is a smart hotel, we can't have screaming," he chastises her mock-sternly, laughter dancing in his eyes and pulling at the corners of his lips.

"You're a devil," Miranda tells him as she stands up.

Knowing her well, Gary takes half a step back in case of retaliation, but Miranda is too busy getting ready. He loves that, although she turns her back to him, she is comfortable enough to change clothes while he is there. She did not want to in the beginning, but after a while, when it seemed he had kissed every inch of her a dozen times, it seemed pointless to hide away. When Miranda has pulled her black beaded top over her head he slips his arms around her waist and kisses the back of her neck.

Miranda relaxes into his hold as she always does. "You might not want to start doing that if you're in a hurry."

He smiles against her skin. "Okay."

Miranda turns in his arms and takes a moment to kiss him before sitting down at the table to do her make-up. She has never been a big make-up wearer, but sometimes it was nice to doll herself up. Even nicer when she could see Gary in the mirror changing into a smart shirt and trousers. "You're looking very dapper there, sir," she tells him playfully.

"Thank you, my lady," he responds, bowing.

"I'm ready," she adds. "Let's go."

They leave the room hand-in-hand and Gary tells her the restaurant is close enough to walk to, so they set off down a sunny Paris street. All the buildings seem to be extra tall.

As they approach a small square, the sounds of music float through the air. They enter the square to see an impromptu performance by three musicians, with a small crowd gathered around them.

Gary turns to Miranda with excitement. "Hey, shall we dance?"

"But Gary, you know I'm rubbish at dancing," Miranda complains, not wanting to embarrass herself yet again.

"Don't worry, I'll tell you what to do. Come on. Put your hands on my shoulders." Gary puts his hands on her hips, and Miranda puts hers on Gary's shoulders (any excuse). "Ready?" Gary asks.

"No."

Gary smiles fondly. "Right foot back - no, that's your left - okay now put your left foot out to the side."

Miranda sticks her foot up in the air, nearly overbalancing.

Gary stifles a laugh as he helps Miranda steady herself. "You can put your foot down, that's it. Now slide it next to your right foot. And spin..." He spins Miranda out and then into his arms again, while Miranda tries not to trip over her own feet. "...and kiss."

Miranda presses a chaste kiss to his lips, grinning.

* * *

The restaurant is very posh. Miranda thinks her mother would like it a lot. Gary takes the waiter aside for a moment before they sit down. They eat ham and cheese crepes, folded into quarters and steaming slightly. Miranda's not sure she can manage a pudding but Gary persuades her otherwise.

"This place apparently does this amazing chocolate zabaglione mousse. We can't not try it."

He orders the mousse with a scoop of ice cream and as the waiter walks away Gary stares down at the table, biting his lip. Miranda can't see his face properly but it looks as though he is grinning.

"What are you smiling at?"

"Just happy," he replies. "This is brilliant. You're brilliant."

Miranda blushes. "I'm not that brilliant."

"Well I think you're very brilliant, so there."

She shakes her head at her wonderful boyfriend fondly. "I'll be back in a second, going to powder my nose as it were."

Gary's eyes widen. "Miranda wait -"

As she jumps up, Miranda collides with the waiter, and an entire plate of four chocolatey layers of syrup, icing, cake and biscuit flies through the air and lands smack on the waiter's head. Miranda stares in horror.

Gary claps a hand to his mouth to hold in the laughter. "Um, can we have the bill," he manages to ask, his voice shaking.

Miranda apologises profusely, not daring to look at Gary because she knows they will both explode with laughter. Of course, when they leave the restaurant they have barely taken a step before they both collapse.

"Did you see his face!"

"I thought he was going to murder me!"

They stagger along the pavement until their laughter subsides and they can walk more normally. "Shall we go for a walk at the beach?" Gary suggests.

"But we're nowhere near the sea."

"No, I know, but they set up a beach on the banks of the Seine."

"In that case, that is an excellent idea. As long as I don't get sand on my best top."

Gary stares at something in a bookshop window as they pass, but all Miranda can see is a few book titles that say things like The End of the Night, Message in a Bottle and The Purple Seahorse. Gary hurries her along but a few streets later he asks her to wait a moment. She watches him talking to a group of teenagers. It looks as though he gives something to one of them but she can't be sure.

"What are you up to?"

"I just thought it was someone I know," he replies, but he is blushing again. He takes her hand and they set off again, Miranda wondering why he is acting so strangely.

"That pudding was a bit of a disaster," he says forlornly.

"Don't worry, I'll buy you some macaroons later," Miranda promises.

"That wasn't really the point," he mutters.

"Oh, beach!" Miranda points. It looks very strange; there is a long strip of sand, then a tarmac area like a promenade dropping to the river itself. They walk along the promenade, close to the sand.

Gary nudges Miranda gently. "Hey, what's that?" he asks softly.

Miranda looks where he is pointing and sees a bottle half-covered by the sand. "Just an old bottle."

"Go and have a look."

"Gary, it's just a piece of rubbish."

"Go on!" he insists, laughing.

Giving him a "you're acting very strangely" look, Miranda picks up the bottle, oblivious to the pounding of Gary's heart.

"WASP!" she yells as a yellow-and-black striped body exits the neck of the bottle and flies into her face, and she instinctively throws up her arms, the bottle sailing through the air. Gary is reminded of a certain piece of chocolate dessert as the bottle soars over the barrier and falls down, down, and lands with a glunk in the Seine below.

Miranda stares at the river sheepishly. "Oops."

Gary shakes his head, smiling. "Life's never dull with you around, is it?"

* * *

The following day, they leave the hotel for another walk. They had decided that the holiday would be a relaxed one, with no particular pressure to go do tourist-y things. Just wandering through the streets, munching on macaroons and bumping into each other gently as they went was enough.

"So what's been the best bit about the last year?" Miranda asks as they meander around a busy public garden, full of green trees, colourful flowers and tall water features.

"Well, I got this great girlfriend. Her favourite thing is throwing desserts over people," he teases.

"Cheeky!"

"What's your favourite thing?"

"I got a lot more cakes than usual."

He shoves her playfully. "Is that all?"

"No, Clive got a gorgeous boyfriend."

"And?"

"This weirdo asked me out."

"Oi! I'll get you for that!" He starts tickling her, getting her right in the ticklish spot under her ribs. Miranda yelps and backs away, and when he follows her she tries to run but ends up falling backwards into a fountain with a SPLASH. She sits up in the shallow water and notices that everyone in a 20-metre radius is watching her.

"I-I meant to do that. I was just testing the, uh, barriers. Not very safe, dontchaknow."

Once again trying not to laugh, Gary holds out a hand to his hapless and beautiful girlfriend. Miranda grabs his wrist and as she gets to her feet he is overcome with the fact that this amazing woman has chosen him to share her days with, and as she reaches her full height he just says, "Marry me?"

Miranda is so surprised she loses her grip on him and promptly falls back into the fountain, but this time she is laughing and so is he. Dripping wet, she climbs out without his help and says, "Do you mean that?"

"Miranda, you light up my life and you are wonderful. I love you. Will you marry me?" He fumbles getting the ring out of his pocket, nearly dropping it, but manages to get the box open to show her the diamond ring.

Miranda grins, glowing with happiness. "Of course I will, you nut," she says affectionately. She watches him slip the ring onto her finger. "Just for the record, is this why you've been acting so strangely?"

"Yes! First that pudding, it had the ring on it and 'will you marry me' on one of those little flags. But when that ended up on the waiter I had to get the ring back and I got those kids to leave you a message in a bottle. I wanted this to be funny and sweet and a little bit weird, just like you, but everything just kept going wrong."

"Just like me?"

"Your words, not mine!" They smiled at each other. "I love you, Miranda."

"I love you too, Gary."


	5. Another Language

Inspired by this post: garyprestons tumblr com/ post/ 48120186630 (and mostly Valerie's tags on it).

* * *

It was hard to find words for what he felt. His love for her was days inside watching the rain, and evenings watching movies, the expressions on her face when she ate something he had baked and the way she shattered all his barriers. How could there be words for that? There was too much to say and too few words to say it.

How could "I love you" cover fifteen years of thinking about her? How could "I want to kiss you" encompass so much aching and wishing? How could he explain that he was scared to commit because he had spent so long convincing himself that her feelings for him were platonic that he was afraid to wake up and discover their relationship was concocted from his hopes?

But he tried. Sometimes, a little of the wordless adoration would find its way past his lips. "They do... they do find you attractive." She seemed to run away then, and the spark of recklessness he had discovered on the eve of his escape was extinguished.

So he held her _you're beautiful_, and rubbed her shoulder with his thumb _please stay close_. He baked her muffins _I want you to be happy_ and made her dinner _I'd spend the rest of my life taking care of you_. He smiled _I adore you_, laughed _you lighten my heart_ and acted like a child with her _I trust you_. He tried to teach her to cook _I want to share the happiness this gives me_ because she asked _I'd do anything you asked_.

And one day, one lucky day he had almost stopped hoping for, he kissed her.

"I forgot to say -" _I love you I love you I love you._


End file.
